


choo choo here comes the depression train

by frogbackpack



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, I dont know how that happened, Self-Harm, Suicide, also wow thi s is thesecond fic ive posted todya, i was gonna make this a hurt/comfort thing but then death, im on a roll, seriously tho why do i always kill off my fav characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 06:33:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17934626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frogbackpack/pseuds/frogbackpack
Summary: Dean's stomach drops almost along with his phone as he reads the message displayed on the cracked screen.I'm so sorry, Dean. I just can't do this anymore. I love you so much and I'm sorry I'm such a fuck up and I'm sorry you had to put up with me for so long.Another beep sounds as a second text pops up.Goodbye, Dean.





	choo choo here comes the depression train

**Author's Note:**

> i know i put it in the tags but like trigger warning some suicide happens

Dean's stomach drops almost along with his phone as he reads the message displayed on his cracked screen.

I'm so sorry, Dean. I just can't do this anymore. I love you so much and I'm sorry I'm such a fuck up and I'm sorry you had to put up with me for so long.

Another beep sounds as a second text pops up.

Goodbye, Dean.

He can feel his heart drop past his ankles. 

He doesn't even think as he runs to his car and floors it to where Sam is. All the while his mind is racing. There's no way this is real. It has to be a demon or some shit playing a sick joke on him. It fucking has to be.

The drive back to the motel they were staying at felt like it lasted hours even though it wasn't even twenty minutes. When he pulls up into the parking lot, he throws himself out of the car and towards the room he prays Sam is in, alive and well. He isn't sure if he even locks the car back up.

The door is unlocked and he pushes it open as fast as he physically can. He doesn't see Sam anywhere and he feels his heartbeat speed up, if that's even possible at this point. 

The bathroom door is closed and Dean rushes over to it and bangs against it. “Sam? Sam, open the door!” He's trying not to yell, he really is, but his panic is showing itself in his voice.

When he doesn't hear anything from the other side of the door, he kicks it down, not caring that the motel owner will definitely not be pleased. 

Dean's stomach almost empties itself onto the tiles at the sight before him. Sam was sitting on the floor, back propped against the bathtub. His wrists were slashed to hell and back, there was hardly a single space of skin not covered in bleeding cuts.

He made a mad dash and knelt to his brother's side. “Jesus fucking Christ, Sammy, fuck, please be okay, please,” he's still breathing, thank god, but it's so faint and Dean knows if he doesn't get to a hospital right a fucking way, he's going to bleed out.

His mind is in a total haze as he reaches for the towel sitting by the sink, it has a little blood on it and, holy shit, blood is splattered all over the sink and floor, he really wishes he didn't notice. He pushes it out of mind and grabs the towel, wrapping it around Sam's arm. Luckily, there were two, one for each arm.

Trying not to disturb the wounds while also keeping pressure on them, he lifts Sam up bridal style and carries him to the car.

Dean lays him in the back seat as gently as possible before getting behind the wheel and speeding to the nearest hospital. 

The eldest Winchester isn't usually the praying type, yet he finds himself begging whoever or whatever might be listening to please fucking make sure his brothers okay. Castiel doesn't show up even as Dean prays over and over for him to get his feathery ass down there.

He doesn't show. Of fucking course.

The rest of the drive blurs together.

Dean can hardly remember carrying Sam, bloody and dying, into the hospital, crying for help. 

A few nurses bring Sam to the emergency room, trying to keep Dean from following. No, please, he's my brother, he said, his voice cracking like he was going through puberty again. They let him follow.

He's sitting in the chair next to the bed they lay Sam on.

Doctors and nurses are asking questions but he can't hear what they're saying, only seeing their mouths move from the corner of his eyes, which he refuses to take away from his brother.

His ears are ringing and then they're ringing louder and it gets louder and louder until he can't breathe.

No. No, that's not him. That's not the ringing. That isn't where it's coming from.

Dean nearly vomits when he realizes it's a flatline.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading yalls


End file.
